Armistice
by SpiritOfMetal
Summary: The forest seems to have one big pair of eyes, and I can feel them boring into me. Being home-alone in the middle of nowhere doesn't help, and the strange noises just put the icing on the cake.
1. Nyquil Abondonment

First off, I have had a number of inspirations for this story: the new Predators movie, and Kopeht and Hikarin-Love's wonderful stories. They are awesome authors!

I had great fun creating this story, even if this is my first Predz fanfiction.

Predators don't belong to me, but my original characters do.

Happy reading!

**~SpiritOfMetal**

**.*.  
**

I shakily brought a white porcelain cup up to my mouth and took a sip of cool water.

"Errp! GEKBLAHAHCACK!"

My hot, ravaged throat is torn open again by inhaling some flippin water. _Piss._

I cough so hard that I nearly feel my lungs detach themselves, but it passes as I drink more water.

I sigh, squinting at the blinding light of the flat screen in my living room. The volume is turned down super low...loud sounds aggravate me when I'm sick.

I wrinkle my nose and attempt to form a loogie to try to dislodge some of the scum in my nasal passages, but its like someone poured concrete down there.

"Bleh..." I breathe pathetically through an open mouth.

Leave it to my luck to catch a cold...a _cold_...in summer time.

I set the cup down on the floor and sprawl myself out over the couch, trying to cool down. The ceiling fan above my head rotates and squeaks at its maximum effort, but it doesn't even put a dent in the sticky sweat that has been on my skin for days.

I grumble and wipe some lovely perspiration off my upper lip and forehead.

I would turn the air on, but my parents (especially my frugal dad) instructed me to only use the air a few times a week if I really have to.

I've been avoiding the inevitable...

My parents went on a vacation...a cruise around the Gulf that they have been saving especially for their 20th anniversary.

Anniversaries = strictly no offspring allowed.

My younger brother (thank god) went to Florida for two weeks with one of his friends families.

And this leaves me to watch after the house and animals. Ah, I would be mad that I have to be the one stuck here, but I conveniently got sick when the earlier plans were made.

Now I don't mind it because, well...I don't feel like doing much other then sitting around when I'm sick.

It actually ended up being a win-win-win situation (very rare)!

Not so much for me because I'm sick. But I like being alone when I'm sick. Dunno why.

I peal myself off of the suede couch, ignoring the painful rush of blood to my head, and walk to the kitchen.

I always leave the kitchen lights on...because, well, my house is creepy as hell when the lights are out. I live out in the middle of nowhere, and the eerie silence is unlike anything I have ever experienced. It has a deadly, foreboding feeling to it, and I do my best to get rid of it. Plus, leaving the lights on kinda detours robbers/psycho paths...if they were lazy or had any kind of common sense left.

The hanging light above the counter island is on, casting a friendly warm yellow glow around the kitchen. Its a comfort, but I still look at the black windows nervously.

I hate those windows at night.

That's why I never sleep in the main room.

I put my hands on the cool stone counter top of the island and try to draw the temperature into my body, taking a long sigh. It works for a few minutes, but soon my hands warm up the counter.

I sigh again, this time longer, then yank open the freezer side of my fridge and take out a few small ice packs. I put one on my neck, find the temperature just right, then close the door.

Geez, its such a relief.

I smile, then look down the dark hallway leading to my parents room

They are so paranoid they locked the door with a master lock.

"Jazzy, c'mere!" I call, my voice breaking.

I wait a few minutes, looking into the unmoving shadows.

I hear a small thump, then the sound of claws clicking on tile.

Jazzy, my black-and-tan coon dog comes trotting into the kitchen, tongue lolling and skinny tail wagging.

I kneel down and greet the lovable booger and he showers me with gentle licks.

Jazzy is kinda smallish for a coon dog, I think he was mixed with a miniature pincher. But anyway.

Jazz has a great personality, and we are great buds. He doesn't bark much and has great respect for personal space and our other two cats, Keta and Oz. He has never wandered farther then our yard and always follows his people around. He loves to chase insects, which I find hilarious. He hates the sound of mini-blinds.

He does a circle around the kitchen then comes to his food bowl and crunches away at his food.

With Jazz in the same room as me, I feel a little more secure.

I stare out one of the windows with one of the ice packs on my neck.

Many people think I'm scared of the dark. Complete bs, I love the dark. I do fear what could be _in_ the dark. More so because I'm alone in a house out in the middle of nowhere, and the closest neighbor is a mile away.

I guess if something is chasing you, a mile is more like fifty feet.

Why do I keep having thoughts like that? It really isn't helping.

I put the ice pack down, gulp and walk across the kitchen into the living room and flick two switches near the front door (which is locked) and the porch light and floodlights go on, illuminating the deck that surrounds a section of the house.

I hear Jazz stop eating.

I unlatch the deadbolt and turn the doorknobs lock horizontally. I creak open the door and I hear Jazz making his way over.

I peek outside and I see nothing on the deck , the dark shadows forced into the thick foliage around our small lawn.

Thank goodness.

Large beetles dot the brick around the porch light. Moths start to smack themselves against the bulb.

I open the door wider, then glance down at my feet where Jazz is sitting, looking up at me expectantly and wagging his tail.

"You wanna go out with me?" I ask him in a whisper.

He smacks his lips a few times.

I step out in the cool night air and Jazz follows after me. He makes his rounds around the deck, doing his perimeter check, then begins to watch the beetles fly around the deck light.

I pull up a deck chair and plop into it.

Ah...the serenity of coolness.

Katydids and crickets make up the nights deafening song. Its never quiet around here in the summer...Cicadas party in the daytime.

I look out into the unmoving forest. Tons of trees loom in the distance. I shiver, but not from a chill.

Jazz has noticed the small white dish that I had set out on our wooden steps. He starts licking it and smelling it intently.

I put the dish out there after I heard something trying to get in the trashcan a few weeks ago. It didn't scare the bejesus out of me because I knew what ever it was was just desperately hungry. I tried to catch what was making the noise, hoping to find a raccoon or a coyote, but I couldn't catch it.

I mean, I camped out by my front door with books and some blankets. The moment I heard something fiddling around with our plastic dumpster, I jerked open the door.

Nothing.

It creeped me out, that's for sure, but I figured it was a stray cat.

A strays life out in the boonies has gotta be pretty rough with the coyotes and all, so I thought I would show a little bit of friendly hospitality and set out my dinners left-overs.

The thing has an amazing appetite. I would wake up every morning to find the plate completely clean. Some nights I even left out fruits and vegetables and they weren't even spared.

Jazz really liked that plate. I watched him as he snuffed and sniffed, even getting his nose underneath it.

That plate must smell incredible.

I cracked my knuckles.

"What shall I feed it tonight, Jazzy-boy?"

He glanced at me, then continued with his merry smelling.

I sighed, then began tapping my fingernails on the arms of the chair.

Jazz soon lost interest. He looked around the yard a few times, then took off down the stairs and trotted behind the house.

I guessed he had to go relieve himself.

...Now it was just me and the forest.

I stood, not feeling comfortable in the chair anymore.

I put my hands on the wooden railing and watched.

The bugs stopped, like an orchestra director swished his fancy little stick-thing and bam.

Goose bumps prickled up my spine.

It was too quiet. Like the quiet before the storm. It wasn't the profound quiet in my house, but it was just strange.

Like something was watching me.

I heard a noise. My eyes snapped to the left of the forest before me.

There it was again. I stared. The deck creaked as I leaned forward in morbid curiosity.

There was at fain hiss, like an exhalation of breath. Then a skittering tapping noise, like mice running around in an attic.

Now the loudest sound was the blood pumping through my veins.

I heard the small crunch of dried leaves. I focused on one particular spot of the yard...off to the left corner, behind some rocks.

Something is going to jump out...I braced myself, adrenaline making my head spin...

Jazz bolted from the right side of the house, then clambered up the stairs.

I nearly shat myself, and Jazz stood before me. He was was very capable of the "are you on something" look.

"I heard..." I whispered, grasping the guard rail for support. I'm sure my mouth was hanging open the whole time.

Jazz felt the sudden urge to knip at his back.

I sighed, the buzz of adrenaline and skid-marking terror lifting off me.

"I swear I heard something."

Jazz was distracted by moths.

"Well, if you can't tell anything is wrong and your senses are a ton better then mine, then I have nothing to be worked up about."

Another shaky sigh, then I opened the front door and let him in.

After skimming my fridge for quite some time, I found a container of microwaved lasagna that I had had for dinner a few nights ago and threw that on the counter. I made myself some oatmeal, then ate it at the dinner table. That was when I became aware of the time.

Nearly ten 'o clock.

"Ugh...I should turn in."

I put my dishes in the sink then quickly retrieved the white dish from the steps. I made sure not to look into the forest. It was still too quiet.

Once inside, I warmed up the lasagna and globed it onto the plate. I stared at the red mess when I was finished.

"Its missing something."

My creativity strikes at the oddest times.

I went to work dressing the meal up, making the lasagna look edible, sprinkling pepper onto it, then placing some old cooked asparagus to the side.

When I was done, the dish looked like it might have been served at a restraunt, but left out for a few days.

I set the plate outside on the very bottom step, glancing at the forest against my will.

The bugs had began to sing again, but that feeling of being watched...

I shuddered, then double locked the door.

Nyquil was my best friend at this point. I hadn't been able to sleep well at all for the past few nights, my nose dripping with snot and the horrible sensation of sticking to everything I touched.

Best friends can accidentally be left behind.

I passed out on my bed, sleep winning me like the epic battle of ninja versus senior citizen – no fight at all, and the only complaint would have been be a fart or two.

Nyquil was left to sit on the counter top with the darkness.

Jazz curled himself up at the foot of my bed on the floor before I lost consciousness, and I remember nearly body slamming poor Keta as I flopped on my bed.

Yes, that ninja wrapped me up in his cloak and we were off to the land of dreams.

.*.

Sleep ninjas...I have a few of em in my closet.

((Short chapter, I know...))

Review, please! They really motivate the author!


	2. Ghosts and Bigfoot

Thank you to those who bothered to review - it helps so much!

The chapters may be a little short, but that means faster updates!

Happy reading...

.*.

Bitches and cream.

I awoke the next day with a headache that rivaled all headaches. I couldn't even see straight.

I also remember hearing this high pitched noise, like a TV, but it was deep within my ears.

My eyes watered it was so unbearable.

I remember seeing blurs of my ceiling...my bed covers...Keta coming close and sniffing me, then leaving...I think Jazz licked my hand at one point.

I tried to go back to sleep, but it just wasn't happening.

To be honest, I don't know how I even got all the way to the living room without getting a concussion, but I did.

The smooth texture of glass...cool water running down my throat...then a face full of cushions.

I think a few hours passed, but I woke up again and recognized that I was on the couch in the living room. It was bright outside. Cicadas were loud and obnoxious.

My headache was still there, but that ringing was gone. It was so hot.

I attempted to stand up, but dizziness overtook me and I slouched on the couch.

I drank some water from the glass on the coffee table next to me, then laid down.

I saw Jazz out of the corner of my eye, but I was out.

.*.

The rest of the day was just a sickening blur of intense light, sounds and smells.

I remembered thinking of that lasagna I set out last night and I felt sick to my stomach.

I buried my head in between a few couch cushions...that was the only way I could get to sleep.

Sleeping was all I felt like doing, I didn't have the mental capacity to do much else.

.*.

Fevers always rage their worst at night.

I had awoken a little past dusk, when the air began to cool down. I felt a little bit more down to earth then I had before, but still not all the way there.

I got up and filled my glass up with more water. I saw dear old Nyquil sitting on the counter, but the mere thought of that licorice tasting sludge made me gag, so I curled back up on the couch.

The thought of ingesting anything made me gag. Water was the only safe thing.

I fazed out of consciousness.

.*.

It was night time when I came to again.

Still on the couch, but I was sweating puddles.

Shadows seemed to do little jigs. Creatures skittered across the floor. Sounds were menacing.

I heard a creak out front. On the steps.

Another creak.

I squeezed my watery eyes shut.

_Its just the fever...I'm sick, that's all..._

I looked at the door. Locked.

I closed my eyes again, then opened them. I was looking at the window.

In the nights dim light, I saw a very dark, tall, monstrous shape...inches away from the window.

It didn't move.

I whimpered, closed my eyes and turned my head the other way.

Things got fuzzy, I was going in and out of sleep.

I could still hear...

The doorknob jiggled. Slightest little noise.

I heard faint metallic clicking, like someone was turning it in slow motion.

The deadbolt...crap.

Silence...then something like...breathing. I couldn't tell if it was me or not.

Silence.

Slight creak on the floor behind the couch.

A presence...it was close.

I felt air stir above my head...a faint breeze seemed to slowly go from my face all the way down to my toes.

I enjoyed the breeze...it cooled the sweat on my skin just a little.

It was like some one pressed a button in my mind and bzzzrrrowww. I blacked out.

.*.

My foot twitched.

"Prrrrrrrrr."

Something soft and warm was next to my leg.

I moved my head out from between a crevice of cushions, drool on my lips. I cracked my sticky eyes open to find Keta on the couch with me.

I looked around. Bright...it was daytime.

Things were clearer then they had been. I wasn't as dizzy, but I was still hot.

I picked the sleep from my eyes for a bit, then sat up a little.

The door.

It was shut and locked.

What did I see last night? So hard to remember...was it a dream?

But it would have scared the devil out of me. I could remember that much.

Why hadn't it?

I scratched my back and yawned.

Something about the window...I saw...Bigfoot?

I have always wanted to see Bigfoot. I swear hes real, those damn skeptics. Hes a nice fella, I can imagine...that's probably why I hadn't messed myself.

I dazed off for a bit, trying to remember, all I could retrieve was a dark shape or outline. It had been big.

My eyes trailed from the window to the coffee table.

There was the glass of water...an ice pack...and...

_Nyquil_.

"What the hell...?"

I did remember getting the glass, but not the icepack, and certainly not Nyquil.

Just the thought of that shit had made me want to spew.

Why was it sitting over here, then?

I picked up the icepack. It was at room temperature.

Nyquil. Maybe it had gotten lonely.

I held the jug and sloshed around its contents.

"Oh, what the heck. I might as well take some."

I popped the convenient little measuring shot glass thing off the cap and filled half of it.

I held the water glass at the ready, then gulped the muck down.

No matter how many times you take it, its still like a kick in the taste buds.

I sputtered and gagged, but drank all of it.

I set Nyquily down and stared at it.

Maybe I had a helpful ghost floating around here somewhere. Or Jazz got on the phone with Lassie and asked what to do with a sick human.

I knew Keta or Oz couldn't have done it, they had too much dignity.

Sighing, I got up and got some more water from my fridge.

Jazz arrived and began to chomp away at his food. I let him out to go to the bathroom, and he once again had much interest in the plate that had been licked clean. The fact that the critter had enjoyed my amateurishly crafted meal brought a smile to my face.

I took another short nap, then surfed the tube. Oz was in there and he sat next to me, sleeping.

I couldn't get the Nyquil-icepack thing out of my mind. I _knew_ I didn't bring those things over to the coffee table...did I? It wouldn't surprise me if I had, but still...something was fishy.

I put the minty medicine on the counter and checked on it on throughout the day to test my ghost theory. It didn't move an inch. Icepack also remained stationary.

I noted other objects sitting around, like my books, the remote, etc. They didn't moved either, besides me moving them. I even stacked some magazines up on the coffee table in an appealing array.

They didn't even twitch.

Its amazing what one does when they are bored and alone.

It would be awesome if there was a ghost in the house. I had always wanted to see a ghost, but the experience would probably be nerve-racking.

Jazz watched me follow through with my shenanigans the whole day. He probably thought I was coming down with cabin fever. I do have a fever, but not that kind.

I even arranged oranges on the counter island to try to draw some attention.

When the dizziness began to come back, I camped out in the TV room with a few flashlights.

I looked at the time on the satellite television and it read five thirty, nearing sunset.

I slowly peaked up above my couch and looked out passed my strange little booby traps to that window.

No hulking mass was there.

Was the form that I had seen just another part of my nutty imagination?

It had seemed so real. I gulped.

Nighttime was when paranoia took control and darkness came out to play.

.*.

Eek! Review, tell me watcha think.


	3. 5th Kind

Thanks so much, you guys! Your reviews have been so kind. I really appreciate it.

This chapter is long. I contemplated dividing it into two, maybe three different chapters, but the more I thought about it, doing that would just take away from the atmosphere of some of the scenes. Tell me if you feel there should have been a break or something.

Any who! Happy readin'!

**~ SpiritOfMetal**

**.*.  
**

I watched the sun slowly descend behind the horizons trees from my kitchen window.

It was beautiful...the brilliant oranges and yellows. Maybe a bit of pink.

Bitter sweet.

Everything began to darken. Soon, that eerie blue light of dusk took hold.

Growing uncomfortable and nervous, I did a swift check of all the door locks...and window locks.

Jazz busied himself with a rawhide bone I had given him earlier.

The cats slunk around, barley making any noise...they were like ghosts themselves.

I decided I wasn't going to sleep in my room. The TV room just felt safer. I brought a good supply of books and flashlights in there, along with my favorite pillows and blankets. Keta seemed to enjoy this and made herself at home on the couch, curled up in the covers.

I paced the kitchen, too afraid to go near the windows. It was really beginning to get dark.

Anxiety...son of a gun.

I soon had a full bladder and went to the bathroom. When I was washing my hands, I made the mistake of looking at my reflection.

Tired, burgundy eyes with circles under them stared back. Brunette hair, a rats nests of near dreadlocks to my armpits because I hadn't bothered to brush it in the past few days. Those strange orangish highlights where brighter because of grease. Barrettes held back my bangs.

Slender figure.

I looked like the Grudge girl, with bad breath to match.

"Pleh."

I continued to wash my hands, ignoring the mirror. I didn't linger in that room when I turned the light off.

Feeling dizzy and headachey, I returned to the couch. Keta was there, so I scooted her aside and buried myself in the many blankets. I turned on the TV , but set it on a timer so that it went off in 30 minutes. I situated the covers so that they formed a protective cave around me. I heard Jazz come into the room and curl himself up in the back corner.

I was really beginning to miss the company of another human. Jazz, Keta and Oz helped, but it just wasn't the same.

I vowed I would try and call mom and dad, but I could imagine it being hard for them to get service out in the ocean. Hopefully they would be on the main land in a hotel or something.

I covered my eyes with my elbow.

Bigfoot. Ghosts. What ever it was, I was going to find out was was happening around here before it drove me bonkers.

A chill passed over me. _Spirits..._

I quickly poked my hand out from my cover-cave and felt around on the floor until I found a flashlight, then brought it back up. Its cold metal exterior was comforting.

I laid my face on it and listened.

Jazz's breathing and occasional tinkle of his collar. Keta cleaning herself. I heard a fwump behind me and it made me twitch, but with further listening I realized it was Oz jumping off something – that cat had some meat on his bones.

My eyes gradually began to get heavy. Once again, the oppressiveness of sleep overtook me.

.*.

Flashes of strange shapes. That hiss in the forest...dim fog...

"Huuh..?" I jolted awake with a start.

Pitch black.

Blind fear pumped through my veins.

Something woke me up.

Then...a rustle in the kitchen. Like a plastic bag.

My blood ran cold.

I stayed completely still under my covers.

Silence...but it was a heavy silence. Not quite silence, but a silence concealing something else.

The worse kind of silence.

Another rustle.

There was _something_ in my kitchen.

_Bigfoot? Ghosts! AUUUUUGHHHHEEEEH!_

Where the heck was Jazz? He should be going nuts right now! Is he ok? Oh dear God, no, not Jazz...

I began to hold back a whimper, then a sob.

Movement. Clink. Squeak! Rssssssssssshhhhhh.

Running water?

I slowly peaked out from under my covers.

That thing was in my bathroom. Using my sink.

If it could use a sink...it must be human. Or at least smart.

If it was in my bathroom, I could sneak up on it...and...ambush it.

I sat up. Shaking like mad, stomach churning, but I was quiet. I felt around on the couch for the flashlight, trying to control my loud breathing. I found it and brought it up like a baseball bat.

I didn't dare turn it on.

Still the sound of water.

I looked down the hallway leading to the kitchen. I could see that creepy ass window.

I stifled a whimper.

Standing there in the darkness of my TV room, I almost made the rational decision to run out the back door to my neighbors house.

I wasn't about to let whoever-the-hell have their way with my house and animals. No. I was put in charge to look after this place, to make sure no harm came to it and its contents.

I was the protector.

Gripping the flashlight with sweaty palms, I summoned courage that came from a small trapdoor deep within my core. It burned like gasoline in my chest, and I bared my teeth.

This bitch was going down.

I tiptoed down the hallway, then came to the kitchen. I held the flashlight up like I was about to bludgeon someone. What I saw caught me off guard, and I faltered, lowering the flashlight.

The fridge door was open a crack, its inner light giving me a little visibility.

I saw a vegetable bag on the counter, and an open container. I came a little closer, keeping a good eye on the hallway where the bathroom was.

My moms private stash of jalapenos had been ransacked. A few of the smaller, spicier ones had the ends missing like someone took a few bites out of them. Next to the bag was an open plastic container. I peered into it.

The old lasagna.

I stood there and stared at the food.

Jalapenos? Why jalapenos? Why _food_?

Still the sound of running water.

As I scanned the kitchen, I noticed my array of oranges had been moved slightly.

Oh shit. Nyquil! It was gone.

What the hell was going on here? Did some mentally disturbed vagrant wander into my house with a bad case of the munchies?

A few drawers were ajar. The one that contained most of our knives was too. I quickly looked in there, but no knives were missing.

I continued to listen to running water. It sounded like something was being washed.

I held up the flashlight again, this time seriously. I stalked over to the bathroom.

Deep shadows. The light wasn't on. Still running water.

I began to violently shake. Tears filled my eyes.

I was three feet away now. I could see a really tall, dark shadow.

_Fuck._

I stood there, flashlight raised over my shoulder, eyes wide and teeth clenched.

Wait, flashlight? That wouldn't do much damage. I needed something that would pack a deadlier blow.

I turned. Just as I did so, the water squeaked off. The sound of dripping.

I pranced over to the drawer and pulled out the sharpest knife we had – in this case, a pointed, medium sized butcher knife.

Teeth chattering, I crouched to the left of the island. At this point, all of my actions where fueled by crazed adrenaline. I listened.

The dripping stopped. Another squeak.

_Hiiiiiissssssssssss._

Goosebumps arose on my skin. That sound...it was so familiar...

Oh no. The woods...in the woods...

FUCKBALLS. Fuckballs, fuckballs.

Something heavy was coming closer. It might have been a footfall, but it was surprisingly soft. Closer.

The floor creaked beside me.

In blind panic, I took that steak knife and jammed it into the things leg. I didn't even look, just stabbed.

Stupid move.

"ROOOOOOAAAAAAAA_AAAAARRRR!_"

"_Eeek!_"

I scrambled from my hiding spot as an enormous weight crashed into the table behind me. Somewhere near the back of the house came Jazz's frenzied barking.

_Jazz_! He was alive!

I got up and opened another drawer, withdrawing an aluminum meat cleaver. I backed up to the kitchen sink, cornering myself.

I watched the huge black thing try to recover, using the table as a support.

I held the cleaver in front of me, breathing hard.

Watching it struggle, I suddenly felt remorseful. Maybe it had just wanted food and water...then I went ahead and stabbed it.

"W-what are you doing inside my house?" I asked, my voice breaking a few times.

It was still draped over the table. The fridge did give off some light, but it didn't help with the visibility of this thing. It moved its legs a little. No response.

"Hey! I said, what are you doing in here? Answer me!" I shouted, a bit more demanding. Jazz's barking stopped.

It slowly began to stand up. A low, guttural growl resonated from it.

I clenched the meat cleaver, my innards turning to slush.

It was huge. Huge. It turned towards me.

It kinda had the shape of a giant man.

I'll be dipped in shit. I stabbed Bigfoot.

I braced the cleaver, heart pounding.

With one crazily agile movement, the creature was inches away from my face. It grabbed the hand that was holding the cleaver firmly and began to squeeze.

I could feel great strength behind its warm, roughly textured grip. I shrieked and dropped the clever.

It fell and collided with something that made a loud metallic clang.

Another growl and I was pressed up against the counter top. The thing grabbed my other hand and I was forced down, my back bending in a way it shouldn't.

I struggled, trying to kick, scratch, anything. I hit something hard and sharp with my ankle and I cringed.

"LET ME GO! AAAAAAUH!" I screamed, thrashing. I tried to get a view of what was restraining me, but once again, its face was hidden in a shadow. From what I could see from the fridges dim light was...something spiky on its shoulder, and...some kind of hair style...dreadlocks?

"GrrrrAKGH!" It snarled, slamming my fists down on the counter. It had a death grip on my wrists.

That sudden movement was enough to shut me up. I clenched my teeth and felt the sting of tears coming to my eyes. Every one of my knuckles felt bruised.

Its grip didn't get any lighter. I felt something sharp dig into my waist, like it was standing too close.

I thought for sure my hands would pop off.

Jesus, give me strength..._oh, please make sure it doesn't rape me. Please, please..._

Tears started rolling down my cheeks.

My muscles were turning sore and tremulous from trying to resist. With no more strength, I gave into its power and went limp.

A strange silence passed.

I was still pinned to the counter top trying to catch my breath. I could feel the thing glaring at me.

It continued to hold me there. Against my stomach, I felt a slight rise and fall. It was breathing.

After my breathing returned to near normal, the thing started to come closer.

I stared at it, my heart thumping once again, but I decided it was easier to just go with the flow.

Stay calm. Just stay calm. If it tries anything, go for the groin.

It leaned over me. The sharp thing against my waist dug deeper into my skin.

Crap. Some kind of loin protector? It must be male, no female had this kind of strength.

Its face came within a foot of mine.

I heard muffled breaths...then it began making this odd clicking noise, like joints cracking.

Muffled...like it was wearing a mask or something.

Mustering my courage again, I clenched my fists.

It stiffened, tightening its grip again.

I looked it right in where I thought its eyes were.

"What are you doing?" I asked with far more confidence then I felt.

It took a sharp inhalation of breath, then clicked a little more. It began to pull away, slowly letting go of my wrists. It stepped back a few feet. I heard the shuffle of metal.

Thank goodness.

I straightened myself, rotating my wrists and wiping the tears from my cheeks. I kept a good eye on the meat clever.

Jazz whined a little.

The thing turned, limped over to the table, pulled out a chair, and collapsed into it. The poor chair splintered under the creatures weight, but didn't break.

"What the fuck?" I whispered. This was certainly one of those moments.

It pulled up its calf, pocking and prodding at its injury.

I took a step forward then stopped when my foot came in contact with something...slimy.

I looked down and couldn't believe me eyes. The thing spilled some kind of radioactive green _glowing_ goo on my floor.

I was mesmerized. I bent over and stuck my fingers in it. Warm, and silky smooth.

I looked up, my mouth agape, and saw a trail of drips leading to the creature.

Something thumped on the ground next to the chair.

I crept a little closer, not believing my eyes.

The creature was quiet for a moment, then with a sickening shifting noise gave a little cry.

The sound of a knife clattered on the table.

That neony stuff was all over it.

"Blood?" I whispered. I felt horrible that I had actually wounded it that bad. But the blood! It was awesome. From my knowledge, Bigfoot didn't have green blood.

I snapped myself out of my fascination and clenched my fists. Now was the time to redeem myself!

Feeling suddenly heroic, I ran to the bathroom, looked under the sink and found a washcloth. I turned on the faucet and put some luke-warm water on it, then returned to the kitchen.

From that angle, I could see a small splatter of blood on the floor from where the knife had entered the things leg.

I cringed, then walked closer.

It was still crouched on the chair. I skittered over, then slapped the washcloth on the table. The creature whipped around and faced me.

"I-I'm sorry for stabbing you." I paused, not sure what else to say. "You scared the sense out of me, so I just reacted..."

It stared at me.

Wait, why was _I_ apologizing? This was my house!

I backed a few feet away. Dang, the lighting was really getting on my nerves. I really wanted to see what was sitting in my chair.

I itched my arm nervously.

Well, if it didn't slaughter any of my animals (that I was aware of) , that meant it might be friendly. It had been obviously hungry. So, maybe if I fed it, it would...be friendlier?

Another thought occurred to me.

"Are...you human?" I murmured. I couldn't believe I was asking that, but c'mon...green blood?

It tilted its head in my direction a little, then started to stare at the washcloth.

After a moment, it slowly raised up its arm, the one with the spiky thing on it, and pointed towards the TV room.

It wanted to watch TV?

I followed the direction it was pointing at...the light switches.

"You want me to turn the lights on?"

It brought its arm down, but didn't respond.

I hesitated, then took the long way around the kitchen, avoiding the what-ever-it-was and came to the switches. I put a finger on the switch that turned on the island light.

Did I really want to see this thing?

Morbid curiosity won, and I flicked the switch.

I realized I had my eyes closed, so I slowly opened them.

Commence mindfuck.

The thing was tall. Tall and strange colored. It had long...dreadlocks, with shiny pointed little jewels on each strand.

Metal armor covered its shoulders, forearms, half of its chest, groin area, top of the thighs, calfs and feet. High-tech control panel lookin' things on its forearms. Ragged fishnet...?

Its mask was...sinister. Metal and formed around large cheek bones, kinda large-ish mouth part... jagged rivulets going up the top sides, like blades...and dark, bottomless holes where its eyes would be.

The most mind blowing thing about this beast was its muscles. Exquisitely sculpted. Like a humans, but deeper defined, larger and sinewy, kind of like an athletes. Definitely a male.

It had five fingers on each hand, and long claws to boot.

We stared at each other for a good while. I probably wasn't as eye engrossing as he was.

I tore my peepers away from his deadly armor and gnarly muscles to look at his leg. He had detached his calf armor and placed it on the floor next to him. That green goop seeped out of a good three inch long cut. It collected in a pool at his foot.

I walked around the table, then quickly grabbed the washcloth. It was cold.

His soul-less gaze followed me.

I pointed to his calf. "I can try to clean that. If you want me to."

I stepped closer, but made sure there was a good distance between us.

He seemed to relax a bit.

I looked at him. "Yes?"

A slight inclination of the head.

I edgily began to move a different chair closer to his leg.

"Lift your leg up, I'll clean it like that."

He did what I said without any complaints. I could tell the cut was hurting him by how gently he set his calf on the chair.

I wanted to ask him how he understood me, but that was for a later matter.

I slowly crouched, taking in this guys strange anatomy.

Killer muscles. Large, animal like feet with long pointed toenails. I shook my head and gingerly brought the rag to his cut.

"Raghckk!" he spat, jumping a few inches off the chair. I cowered under the table.

"I'm sorry!" I whispered, trying to fight the shakiness that was threatening to return.

This guy could easily take my head off with one swoop of his wicked arm.

Trying to block that thought, I returned to my job. He hissed some more, but calmed once I held the washcloth in place. I wiped the rest of his blood away, then threw the washcloth on the counter.

I stood and looked at his cut. Something was missing.

"Oh! I'll be right back. This should help..."

I went to the bathroom again and returned with some stretchy medical gauze and a cotton ball.

He let me put the bandage on with no complaints. When I was finished, I wiped my forehead, then scooted a good three feet away and just sat there.

Things where happening so fast...my mind was still trying to make sense of what this creature was. What that exchange in the kitchen had been about...and why I had just mended its leg.

He peered at his calf, analyzing my work, then leaned back in the chair as if satisfied.

"You...you came in here for food?" I asked.

It hesitated, then nodded.

"Did you lock my dog in a room?"

A slow nod.

Jazz whined as if on cue.

"You didn't come in here for anything else?"

It slightly tilted its head to the side, as if asking "what else would I want?".

I looked down at my lap.

Sheesh this was awkward.

"So...you know English?"

Duh. He just looked at me.

I stared back. This was when I noticed how colorful and strange its skin was. It looked rough and bumpy like a lizards scales. He had darkish markings, made up of diamond shaped scales that formed angled stripes. The skin around the markings faded to green, then the green faded to a little bit of yellow on his inner thighs, abdomen and arms. He was very dark colored at the moment.

"Can you..._speak_ English?"

Those dark pits gazed at me, then after a moment he looked off to the side at the ground.

I waited, but he seemed to be in deep thought.

More awkward silence.

Did my question really require that much thought?

A tiny, barley noticeable nod.

He didn't say anything.

I stared at him, expecting something.

"...I do." said a muffled, deep-ish voice.

I froze.

I was shocked at how human his voice was. Of course, it sounded inhuman, but there was a...humaness to it. Like a deep-toned mid twenties man. It wasn't unpleasant.

I blinked a few times, getting over my obvious shock.

"Cool."

He continued to look at me.

I got to my feet. The intense awkwardness was embarrassing.

"Well, if you are hungry...what do you want to eat? Jalapenos aren't the best food."

I walked over to the fridge and pushed its door open wider.

His gaze followed me.

"Well? What do you want?"

It was like I surprised him. What else was I supposed to do? Give him a foot message?

He slowly lifted up a gloved hand and pointed towards the ajar container on the counter. "That."

The lasagna.

I felt a connection coming, but my mind couldn't quite grasp it.

"This?"

I held up the room temperature container with a look of mild disgust. Its contents looked like congealed innards.

He growled a little and nodded.

I shrugged, closed the fridge then went to a cabinet and withdrew a paper plate. I plopped the rest of the stuff on the plate then popped it in the microwave. While the food began to cook, I looked at the ovens display time below the microwave. 12:13.

After thirty seconds, the microwave beeped and I took out the steaming food.

Tall and gruesome was gently pricking his bandage, pulling at the fibers with his claws.

I grabbed a fork, then set the food down in front of him. He stopped what he was doing and looked at the meal. I quickly put the fork down next to it, then circled the table and took the seat across from him.

He stared at the lasagna, then the fork.

I watched. He looked up at me.

"Go ahead." I urged.

He looked at the fork again, then brought up a hand and picked it up.

Damn, his fingernails were wicked. They were completely black, long and sharp. They rivaled mine, and they were pretty long because I had been too lazy to trim them.

He was captivated by that fork. He kept turning and spinning it, poking at the ends and scrutinizing it.

"Uh...your supposed to eat with it."

He looked up at me, then set the fork down. More ogling his food.

Why wasn't he...oh. He had to take off his mask to eat. Did he not want to take his mask off?

I was greedy to see what was under that metal menace.

If I urged him, I would seem rude. So I just sat and watched.

He mumbled something I couldn't understand.

"Aren't you going to eat?" I asked softly.

"I can't..." he grumbled.

"What do you mean you can't?"

Pause. " I am different."

Well, it was obvious he was different. I was pretty sure he wasn't human, but was very close to one.

He had eyes, and probably a mouth, in which he could put food in. How different could he be?

"Not human." he added.

I stared at him.

He growled, then let out something that sounded like a sigh.

I gestured to his face. "You can take that off if you want. I won't be offended by your 'difference.'"

He cocked his head a little. I felt his invisible stare.

"You will regret this." he growled.

I could have gone without hearing that, but I wasn't about to wimp out. Just seeing his body was a good mental workout. What could be so bad about his face?

"Do whatever you want." I said.

A guttural growl. I thought I had pissed him off by saying that, but he brought a hand up and grabbed onto the front of his mask. Click! - _Hisssssssssssssssss._

I cringed at the noise.

Slowly, ever slowly, he brought the mask back, further...further...then he set it on the table in front of him.

Cock on a log.

It was so much to take in. The first thing I was aware of was his bald forehead. Like his mask, those spiky things ringed his cranium like little waves. The pattern on his forehead was pretty neat...diamond shaped dark markings colorized the middle of it. His eyebrow looking things were ridged.

Now...his eyes. They were _purple_. So strange, yet oddly beautiful, with a round pupil in the middle. They contrasted with his yellow markings brilliantly.

My eyes trailed down to the mother-of-God part of his face. The weirdest thing I have ever seen.

I gawked.

Where a mouth should have been were four sharp, bug like mandibles. They moved and tensed, like facial muscles. At the moment they were closed.

"Whoa." was all I could utter.

He watched my reaction with unblinking eyes. "I told you."

The mandibles opened, revealing a pinkish inner mouth, complete with sickle-like canines.

I jumped back a little.

Promptly closing his mandibles, he looked down at his food, which had been beckoning him the whole time. He picked up the fork, poked at his food a few times, then scooped up a mound of it.

His mandibles popped open again, and the poor lasagna fell into that gruesome mouth. Thankfully, he closed his face and chewed.

A voice in my head told me to turn away before I gagged, but I stared. It was gross watching those mandibles open and close, but amazing. I had never seen anything like it before.

He was done in a couple bites. By now, I had kinda gotten used to the shock of his ever-moving pincer face. He set the fork down and pushed the plate away.

"Thank you." he said.

I nodded, trying not to stare at his mouth. Easier said then done.

"N-no problem..."

He hesitated, then bent over and brought up his shingled calf armor. He began to gently latch it back onto his leg.

While his head was turned, I noticed that some of his dreads were pulled back into a partial ponytail. The holder was a metallic needle. Strangely stylish.

Before I could say anything, he was limping towards the door with is mask.

What? I had sooo many questions! The greatest discovery of our known universe was about to shuffle out my door!

I couldn't trap him or stop him, he was too smart and strong for that. I had to think of an important, last minute question to ask, and fast...

"Wait!" I called, standing and nearly knocking my chair over.

His claws where already on the doorknob. He paused and slowly turned his head.

"Whats your name?"

The corner of his violet eye caught mine. "Za'neel." He said this in a dialect I have never heard before.

He turned the knob and pushed the door open. I heard him click his mask back into place. He took a few steps down the deck stairs, disappearing out of view.

I stood there, motionless.

Jazz yipped.

My legs were moving before I had full cognition of what was happening. I was out on the deck, bracing the hand rail.

I came out just in time to see some bushes rustling, but that was it. He was gone.

"No..." I whined. I slumped down on the deck, staring at the bushes I saw move.

Shiz.

Some weird-ass _alien_ dude thinger had just waltzed into my home...locked my dog in a room, then helped himself to some jalapenos and lasagna. I stabbed him, he pinned me to the counter-top, then I dressed his wound. He spoke to me in perfect English, then I made him dinner. He showed me his bizarre face, then ate his meal and limped out the door. Poof! Gone.

This...this whole thing was absolutely absurd.

Had it really just happened? Or did someone slip me some shrooms? That seemed more believable then what had just happened.

I brought my knees to my stomach and wrapped my arms around them.

I didn't only feel like I was tripping on acid, but I also felt mentally violated. Raped of sanity. I didn't even know that was possible until now.

Trembling, I began to sense the metaphorical pillars of my mind begin to quiver. Not a good sign. I began to take deep breathes, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth like in a labor exercise. My pounding heart slowed, and good ol' oxygen pulled me back from a breakdown.

I rubbed my eyes thoroughly, then looked back at the forest. No movement.

I shakily stood, feeling the blood rush to my head.

Good Lord was I tired.

I walked back in the house and looked at the time. 12: 45. Only that long? It seemed like hours had passed.

Jazz howled.

Feeling my way through the darkness of the hallway, I came to the spare bedroom door and opened it. Jazz bolted out.

I watched as he did circle after circle around the kitchen, sniffing like hes never sniffed before. He found that neony blood very interesting.

Remembering, I grabbed a paper towel and scrubbed the stuff off the floor. I was so tired, I didn't even know what I was doing. I saw Keta slink from the TV room to the guest room, so I assumed my acquaintance didn't maul the cats.

Drained of emotion and energy, I collapsed on the couch near the front door. I sleepily gazed at my magazine display. Pffft, Bigfoot and ghosts? How wrong I had been.

I looked at the window, and it was creepy and foreboding like it always was.

I was still skeptical about the shape I had seen, but...could the phenomenon I had been experiencing the whole time be...what was his name...Za'nerd? No...

"Za'neel." I said aloud, trying to mimic the way he had said it.

What an interesting name. It fit him.

I stared at the ceiling.

Za'neel was probably an alien. Or a government experiment gone a-rye. Most likely an alien, though. He had technology that wasn't earthly.

An alien. Hmm. I had always believed there was life on other planets, but never really thought about it this thoroughly before. Well, Za'neel was proof of that belief.

I wonder what planet he was from? Probably a warm planet, by the half-naked way he was dressed.

Jazz began eating his kibble.

I had to admit, Za'neel had been impressive. Badass armor and amazing muscles. But, his eyes...they were the true spectacle. Well, his whole face was a marvel in its own, but his eyes struck me most. Such a deep shade of purple...they were intense and nearly shimmering, like the the northern lights.

I sighed.

I was glad he was gone, the whole experience had been frightening and confusing, but at the same time...I wanted to see him again. He was so interesting to look at.

And...I liked the company. Yeah, I felt crazy for thinking this, but loneliness was starting to eat a noticeable hole in my heart. It had only been a week since my family left...I wanted some kind of social interaction. I sighed, turning and facing the cushions.

I hadn't even given Za'neel my name. He would probably think it was just as strange.

Eyes...growing heavy...sleep was calling my name.

I conked out, my mind taking a much needed rest.

~.*.~

Whew! You don't know how many times I proof read this thing. I guess its just paranoia.

Well, tell me what you think via Review!


	4. Ignorance

All of these reviews are amazing! ALL OF YOU PEOPLE ARE AMAZING!

Sorry for the short absence...I needed to take a small break, but now I am back! Kinda short chapter this time...but I think it is satisfactory.

I hope you enjoy...tell me what you think review!

**~SpiritOfMetal**

* * *

"Snort!"

Eyes..crusty.

My whole brain hummed with the after effects of deep sleep...and something else.

I peeled myself off of the couch.

Couch?

I blinked. I had fallen asleep on the couch.

I moaned and raked my greasy hair away from my forehead. Ugh. In definite need of a shower.

I cleared some phlegm from my throat and almost had a coughing attack. This was a good sign...the nasty from my nose was beginning to drain. The cold was almost over!

Hacking, I looked around the room. Dim light filtered in from the windows. Morning overcast.

I scanned the coffee table. Magazines...icepack...was something missing? I couldn't remember.

I sat up, feeling dazed. The house was too quiet. The air was thick. Maybe a storm was coming? No, it was the atmosphere itself...tension of some kind. Like older disquiet that was beginning to pass.

The feeling one gets when they walk into a place where something big or important went down.

I shivered.

Growing unnerved, I called Jazz. He trotted into the room, his tongue lolling and eyes bright. He began to greet me with sloppy kisses. Well, he was completely normal.

I got up, feeling like I was missing a big piece to the puzzle.

Walked to the kitchen...looked at the counter.

Oranges...jalapenos...empty container...washcloth...

Glanced at the table. Fork...butcher knife.

I felt like I was falling...or the world was passing by and I was just standing there in a sea of vertigo.

It all came back to me in a split second.

It was such an epic flashback that I staggered back and caught myself on a chair.

"Za...Za'neel..." I whispered feebly.

A dull ache began to throb in my head. I clung to the chair, staring at the butcher knife.

It still had dried green residue on it.

_Alien blood_.

"Auh!" I grimaced. I ate at this table, and there sat a knife covered in alien blood. That goo probably had all kinds of horrible plague-causing bacteria in it.

I didn't dare touch it.

I sat down in the chair, feeling the need to fully go over the previous nights events now that my mind was properly rested.

Za'neel was his name. That was all I knew about him.

I dug my fingers into my hair.

Wait a minute...

I sat up, then walked over to the window next to the front door and looked out. I saw the patch of bushes he had disappeared into.

"I wonder...if he lives out there somewhere." I whispered to myself. I opened the window and listened, hoping to catch some kind of rustling. Nothing besides the morning brigade of Cicadas.

"Hmmm."

I propped my elbow on the windowsill, then rested my chin on my palm.

Huh, the overcast wasn't lifting. Maybe a storm _was_ coming.

A finch landed on the ground, pecked at a leaf, then fluttered away.

My eyes lazily trailed over the ground where the bird had pecked at...then the deck...then the little white dish I had left out a few nights earlier.

_Lasagna_...

My eyes went wide. Za'neel had eaten lasagna!

I grabbed the window ledge.

"Could...he have been the thing that ate the lasagna that one night? Could he have been the thing eating the food I put out all along?"

This blew my mind. I couldn't believe it had taken me this long to realize it. And I thought I had been feeding a stray cat!

"Gah!" I drug my hands down my face, stretching my eyes. This whole thing was just one surprise after another.

While I was marinating in my shock, something soft and furry brushed up against my leg. I flew a few feet to the side, nearly bashing my whole body into the wall.

"Meeerow." Purred Oz. That fatty. He obviously hadn't gotten his food yet. I petted his head, then went to the hallway before the TV room and filled the cats dishes up with their food. Oz immediately hunched over his bowl and began to eat away.

While he gorged himself, I glanced into the TV room. I sure had made a mess in there. Covers and books everywhere.

I walked into the room and began to straighten the place up. I folded the covers up and stacked the books into neat piles. I bent to pick up a small flashlight that had rolled under the couch when something shiny caught my eye.

It was a bottle. Of NyQuil.

I did not bring that in there. I didn't even drink it. I would remember consuming that junk.

I set that douche on the counter! I remembered noticing it was missing...last night.

"Dear God." I breathed.

I picked up the jug and just gawked at it.

Had Za'neel done this too?

No...nobody was as thoughtful as that.

For some odd reason, I hoped he had. I didn't want to have to deal with aliens _and_ ghosts.

Za'neels appearance had ruled out all of my past theories though. I didn't have ghosts, and he certainly wasn't Bigfoot. No...he was the resident alien.

A few nights ago...when I woke up from the couch...I had found the convenient NyQuil on the coffee table. Had...? No, no that was pushing it.

I brought the bottle into the kitchen then closed it into the medicine cupboard. There. If the thing magically appeared again, then it had flippin' super powers.

Growing hungry, I poured myself a bowl of Corn Flakes and sat at the far side of the table, away from the knife.

My crunches seemed to echo throughout the whole house. When I was finished, I put the dishes in the sink and returned to the table and just sat there.

"I wonder where he lives?" I thought aloud. Was man-alien just visiting, or did he actually live out somewhere in my backyard?

Well, if he had been the one eating the food I had set out, then he must live around here.

An eerie realization dawned on me that he had probably been around for quite some time and I had been completely unaware of it.

He was probably that creepy thing I heard in the woods that one night, too. _I had felt it...er, _him _watching me._

Goosebumps crawled on my skin.

He could be watching me right now.

I slowly turned towards the window. Only greenery.

I quietly scooted away from the chair and crept to the windowsill and looked outside. The white plate was still in its place. Everything was the way it was when I had first looked out. The trees and bushes were motionless. The soft light of the overcast sky gave the forest an aberrant feel.

"This is freaky."

I let Jazz out to do his business. He finished quickly and zoomed back into the house.

Anxious, I stationed myself on the couch nearest to the windows and busied myself with reading old issues of National Geographic. I didn't see anything remotely similar to the creature that was Za'neel in those magazines. Maybe a few brightly colored butterfly's and lizards, but only for their markings.

After a few hours, I grew bored of that and putted around the house, finding small things to clean and fiddle with. I eventually grew some balls and washed the blood soaked washcloth, and with much procrastination, the butcher knife. For some odd reason, I couldn't put the knife back in the drawer.

The knife was a sign of something extraordinary, like a heirloom in history. The thing carried so much meaning, I just didn't have the heart to shut it away. I left on the counter-top for me to stare at and ponder in my free time.

I took a two-minute shower and continued with my aimless wandering.

Soon, all I had left was to sit around.

Sitting around is not good for the over-active mind.

The night before played over and over again in my mind like a movie. I tried to decode everything about Za'neel...it could have been a lot easier if he was standing in the same room.

He was an alien. I had to repeat it multiple times to get myself to accept that fact. But he was certainly one of em.

Mysterious should have been his first name. Awkward his middle. Half-naked his last.

I had a new name for him : Mr. MAHN. Geez I had too much free time.

Mahn was awkward in a special kind of sense. He knew how to operate household appliances (like the sink for example) and where to find food in a human dwelling (fridge). But...it was like he had never been in a house before. Or talked to a human. He knew English perfectly. He had the accent and everything. Yet it was obvious he had been...nervous, dare I say? Or clueless.

He knew how to use the fork, but he looked at it like it was sacred.

Heck, he even knew how to plop himself in a chair, complete with disregard for the furniture's holding capacity.

If he knew all of these things...then he must have been on earth for quite some time. Maybe our culture was really similar to his, but I think that would be stretching it.

I did most of my sitting at the table, then the couches, but I couldn't stay away from the windows. No matter how hard I tried, I always ended up peering outside.

Giving into the urge, I pulled up a chair and watched the forest for any kind of movement.

The hole of loneliness in my heart was widening at a steady rate. I wanted to talk to something and have a response. Phone conversations were fine and dandy, but they didn't hold over that social craving for too long.

I looked down at the floor, leaning and tipping the chair on its back legs.

Za'neel was...the only one out there.

The hole got a little wider and I frowned.

I just hoped I could spot him again.

I stared off into the shrubbery.

Could he really live nearby? He had to be somewhere.

Jazz sauntered over and checked out my newest sitting place. He settled down next to me, then looked at me with curiosity in his eyes.

"Do you have any idea who that was that locked you in the guest room?"

He blinked.

"A freakin' _alien_. Can you believe that?"

He licked his nose.

"You probably knew he was eating from that dish all along, didn't ya? With all your vigorous sniffing..."

Gah. People really need to pay attention to animals more often. They know stuff we don't.

I sighed, then began to pick at a nail.

Jazz itched his ear.

"The funny thing is, I kinda wish he were here. Don't even ask me to explain myself cause I don't even know. I'm just uber lonely." I gestured towards the woods. "Ya know, it would be comforting enough to know his whereabouts at night...I can't decide if hes a threat or not."

A distance rumble of thunder cut my thoughts short. I loved thunderstorms...but the thought of rain made me grimace.

I chewed on my lip. Frustration began to boil inside of me. I hated feeling lonely, and on top of that, bored.

"Ugh!" I gritted my teeth. I was going to cure this boredom...

I looked at the forest. It had grown a deeper shade of green with the approaching storm.

Oddly, it looked inviting, like a fresh adventure. I was in the mood for adventure.

Thunder murmured again. I stood up in the excitement of my epiphany.

It would be creepy...maybe even dangerous to my health, but I was going to find out where Za'neel lived.

I ran to my room, digging around in my closet and dressers for the right clothes to wear. I reasoned that camouflage would be my best bet. I had a long, baggy pair of camo jeans and a hunter-green tank top that matched the color of leaves pretty well. I thrusted on a pair of lightweight shoes, then for the hell of it, smeared black mascara on my cheeks like a football player.

I was leaping off the deck before I had time to realize the risks I was taking. Ignorance is bliss.

.*.


End file.
